solar powered heart.

In the past month:

-My Uncle G(atsby) mailed me tickets to the philharmonic. My mom and I saw Mitsuko Uchida do Ravel's Piano Concerto in G major (It was amazing. Mitsuko speaks a lost language found only in her finger bones and the three small ones in the ear.) Then we saw Schubert's Symphony in C major. It was late an I was tired. It was amazing, but 50 minutes. I'm not that advanced.

-I wrote a couple of poems. I'm working on some non-fiction.

- other things. hunter college things. odes to stuff. mums the word. all i do is work. and sleep. all i do is read d-listed and drink tea. i bought some new teas...i really like the masala chai. bought tin house. one really weird good story in there. dialogues of departure by stephen heighton. finished that oscar hijuelos book. empress of the splendid season. rode the subway late at night and kind of passed out: mistake. didn't go to any stupid parties, just a good one thrown by the otr. i'd like a cat. i'm excited to go see melvins. people from all around will be coming and we're gonna have funnnn. my dad and i explored a basement. sawdusty. some old habits grew back because it's spring. all i'm thinking about is setting up summer and new paltz. i think about new paltz constantly. i miss alex. all of them. all 3. i wonder how high the grass is- how bad the ticks are. some things are not fun at all but waking up just right is high ranking on fun. when you wake up and you feel the cold but the heat is brewing on the outside and the weeds are soaking it up and the old VW GTI was still around (the first one) and the hills were mountains and sailing down them was this bliss i felt in my teeth and the pores on my forehead. also i got a haircut from bumble and bumble. they didn't fuck it up and i left feeling light, and i sat on 8th avenue and 13th and had a spoon and ate some lock and lock lunch. there is some guy who knits full body suits on the subway but i've never seen him in real life...just pictures. there is a funny feeling in my tummy so i'm going to bunker down.

blanking blanket

and here i write the
lion is the walrus;
paul!

things hurt. im prone to bruises and picking at my face. ive cried a lot recently because everything turned into a fucking meat puppets song interpreted through a hobos bad acid trip.
it hurts my face and my eyes.

im so tense my eye started twitching and my jaw is popping like the rock steady crew.

i miss gordy. being away from her is like knowing my favorite pen is being used by someone who translates neruda into german. im never getting that pen back. it was such a fine black thing.

im really terrible. i want to go back to new paltz and live in the cold and let the mice catch the mice catch the flour i didn't bag up properly. i stopped smoking again. i got sick and then repulsed by the additives in my body. i got repulsed by my own sallow skin and the weaker light in the bathroom. i started drinking seltzer because i ran out of diet coke. then i stopped eating meat. finally i started reading murakami again- because after so much thoreau [and such a distance between now and when norwegian wood was read] i needed to be immersed in a corny cob pipe of a dream. "do you understand?" "do you see?"

im repulsed my the material me. right now as i write this i'm in my alaska shirt. the one anyu brought back from some trip. serious pitstains so i wear it in fall/winter when i need a sweatshirt. sweating it out at the homestead! im in pat's pants from when he lived in new york. brian gave them to me. pat still asks about them. they have moose on them. when i went to california [where pat now lives] i wore them every night! also, i am wearing my favorite perfume.
perfume is great because it goes from being contained in a bottle [which may in fact be amazingly beautiful] to being wildly loose on neck breasts and wrists. i never feel bad about buying perfume. i stick with the same one for about two years. people whove known me long and have smelled me consistently tell me i have two scents. i'm okay with that. i dont know if i can ever wear the perfume he gave me again. also, i am uncertain we will ever make perfume [again].
my parents refused to send me to france to perfume school to be a nose. i wound up leading a very terrible life [just kidding, i would never kill myself over spilled anything... well maybe blood. it would have to be perfect and not premeditated]

tomorrow i go to a women's conference at hunter. i get in for-ee because i am part of an organization or something. its at hunter so thats my in[n]. i go there, you know. to learn how to sit quietly and at first be ignored by my peers, then avoid them.

boy, i sure can only handle a few good fellows at a time. i really like to be the sleeper. papow.

in other news:
my horoscope [so accurate i have to share, so scary its true, so true my life has changed and i am again homeless in my home]:

"Reaching understanding with others concerning feelings and emotional issues is a special focus for you at this time. Resist the lure of something that is obviously bad for you. You must be willing to break out of a downward spiral by accepting the inevitable. The line between the foolish and the wise has never been more clearly drawn."

what a fire sign! where's my wet blanket?
---------
-ian and will at arlenes grocery
-mxbx
-tickets to olympia
-cr portfolio
-bankxit

tamborines for the lord of silk thread.

hi,
this is the owner of this blog.
hi.

today i had food at a place that i think was trying to poison me. or make me vomit in front of people. or just playing a cruel joke where the soda and ketchup and salad and chicken was filtered through five month old yoghurt and goats milk, prepared to swim rancid in my stomach. heaving like a storm that would flood Pinocchio's heart.
saladhead.

branchworms invaded the outermost finger on my left shoulder and wont let any conscience wary flutterbirds land there to whisper the good news in my ear. the downside of all of this is that i have snails with demon antennas leaving slime trails through my life. a grueling way to go down, if i were provoked for a response.

brand spanking new molskine. big one- as big as they get. leave the new paltz one behind and get started on all of this gumbo that wrestles my mind and hands. wrings my hands like washcloths and flaps them like umbrellas indoors.

i don't know what to say so i just tell you i can not see you today. maybe tomorrow as i mend with tonight, the nautical breeze will uncrust my throat and i can be honest. i thought about walking down to the water. i forgot how heavy my feet are. wear sunscreen on my lips and pass as a person who burns everywhere but the softest part of her body, heart centered in mouth.